Prompt: "To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves."― Federico García Lorca, Blood Wedding and Yerma.

Warnings:b Reference to possible non con, age disparity.

Disclaimer: Ownership of these characters and settings belongs to JK Rowling.

AN: Big thanks to hull1984, my beta. Written for melusinahhp's iOne Prompt, Many Writers/i on live journal. Under 500 words is really difficult. It was interesting that so many people guessed that I was the writer of other people's drabbles, and four people guessed that other people had written this one. Nobody twigged that this was mine, although I thought it was fairly typical of my writing. I haven't worked out what that means yet.

His arms are long. As the young man stretches up to reach a heavy book on a high shelf his biceps tighten. The sunlight plays on his smooth skin. His lips look soft enough to kiss.

But he is forbidden. This desire cannot even be spoken. He is too good for a man the same age as his father, for one with thinning hair, lined skin and a son almost the boy's age. It is impossible that such a beautiful wizard could ever want to submit to the liver-spotted paws which clench with the frustrated desire to hold him.

He lifts his robes to climb onto a desk, revealing bare calves. The voice with which he rallies his house-mates is full of vigour, energy, youth.

His professor shouldn't even be looking. He should be reprimanding, not admiring. He has a position of responsibility. Teachers should protect their pupils; they should not be their predators.

He swaggers through the castle corridors, head held high, white teeth bared in a grin. Those straight, even teeth need to be licked in a deep kiss, they need to bite down on a middle-aged shoulder. He is full of a confidence which Draco wants to be pinned under, a bravado which Draco – his Professor Malfoy – longs to break.

Draco will never have what he dreams of. The boy's family has brought him up to despise the man who made the wrong choices so many years ago. Draco was forced onto the wrong side; he honoured and protected his parents. Still he is paying the price. This boy was born to the golden and righteous ones who have no time for Malfoys.

The night is dark, the Hogsmeade alleyway secluded, and James Potter is too drunk to resist. Draco could just take what he wants now. Why shouldn't he? It's not like anyone has ever expected any better of him.

His wand slips from his sleeve to his palm…